


So Sweet The Hour

by SmuttySpaceElf (gayspaceelf)



Series: Trans Smut-athon [3]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Trans Character, Cunnilingus, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Ending, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 03:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11568978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayspaceelf/pseuds/SmuttySpaceElf
Summary: “The dick doesn’t look period accurate.”“Being period accurate would result in using materials either body unsafe or not vegetarian.” Damien’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “I’m unsure which is worse.”-Just two trans guys being dudes. Just two trans dudes being guys.





	So Sweet The Hour

**Author's Note:**

> usual disclaimer about how I don't represent all trans men etc etc. this fic is just based on my experiences as a trans man who likes other men, and the kind of sex I like and have

Damien in civvies doesn’t look as out of place in his house as Jonathan expected him to. 

Of course, that might be because it takes seven words and under a minute from Damien coming in the front door before he’s pushed back-first up against the door, so he doesn't have much time to take it in. The panel in the door is uncomfortable against his spine, but Damien’s hands are soft as they cup his face, before he leans forward and presses his lips against Jonathan's. His glasses are pushed to the side by the motion, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he closes his eyes, pulling away and then pressing against Jonathan’s again, his lips open and hungry. 

Jonathan closes his eyes and feels himself melt against the door. 

Somehow one of his hands finds way to Damien’s hair, the other cupping around his cheek and jaw, pulling him closer. He can feel one of Damien’s hands move from his cheek, fingers dipping down to caress his jawbone, and then trace down his neck. His breath is hot against Jonathan’s skin as Jonathan pulls his ponytail free, 

Damien’s hands are pressed into the door on either side of Jonathan now, and as he catches Jonathan’s bottom lip between his teeth, Jonathan lets out a sound that’s half gasp and half moan. 

Damien does it again and it’s harder this time. 

“ **Fuck** ”, Jonathan says instinctively, and before he realises that he’s said it Damien has pulled away, his weight resting on his feet rather than against the door, his eyes wide with concern. 

“Are you alright?” 

It takes Jonathan a few seconds to process what he’s said. 

“Yeah”, he says, out of breath slightly. “Fine. Good. Enjoyable. Yes. Just when you asked to kiss me I wasn’t expecting that.” 

The concern melts as the corners of Damien’s lips twitch into a shy smile, and he moves one hand to push his glasses back into place. 

It’s not too long until his body is pressed up against Jonathan’s again, his mouth moving from Jonathan’s lips to his cheek, then tracing kisses along his jawline. Jonathan lets his eyes flutter closed as Damien moves to his neck, his teeth brushing against skin with each kiss. 

Jonathan desperately tries to think of a reasonably good vampire and/or biting joke, but when one of Damien’s hands moves down his body to stroke his packer, lips and tongue teasing at Jonathan’s neck, he temporarily forgets what words are. He moves his palms in soft circles, and Jonathan can feel the motions press against his dick even through the silicone.

He pulls away, and Jonathan’s eyes slide open, confused. 

“Can I-”, Damien begins, still palming Jonathan’s packer through his trousers. Jonathan opens his eyes during the pause and he flushes, pushing a strand of loose hair out of his face. “Um.” 

He doesn’t say any more words, but when he lets go of Jonathan’s packer, gets down on his knees and presses his cheek against the bulge, Jonathan gets the idea. 

He nods, having not yet remembered what words are. 

Damien hooks fingers into the belt loops of Jonathan’s jeans, pulling his hips forward before toying with his belt buckle. It seems to take an age for him to take them off, like he wants every movement to toy with Jonathan. 

It’s working, but that doesn’t mean Jonathan wishes he wasn’t doing it. His fingers tease under the waistband of Jonathan’s briefs, tickling the skin underneath just briefly. Jonathan lets out a half moan, urging him to hurry up. 

Damien gets the hint. Soon the briefs are down around his ankles, and Damien is pushing Jonathan’s packer harness to the side. He makes eye contact once more, and then leans forward to give a slow, teasing lick to his cock. 

Jonathan’s always been vocal, and it doesn’t change here. He covers his mouth with one hand, resting the other on top of Damien’s head as he attempts to bite back the sounds that fall out of his mouth unprompted. 

Damien’s mouth is everywhere, licking and sucking at Jonathan’s cock and labia, and each movement seems to blend together. By the time he swirls his tongue around the head of Jonathan’s cock as he sucks, it feels like everything all at once. Jonathan can feel his legs start to shake, and he buries a hand in Damien’s hair, fingers twisting it into knots as he feels himself get close. 

When he comes it’s with a series of loud whimpering moans, and he’s never been more grateful that they both have their houses to themselves now. Damien must have pulled away at the last minute, because when Jonathan is next aware of him, he’s looking up at him with what looks like awe in his eyes. 

“ _Damien_ ”, Jonathan manages to get out. His legs are still shaky and he has to lean against the door in order to stay upright. 

Damien stands up, caresses his cheek, and then kisses him, and Jonathan can smell and taste himself on Damien’s face and lips and tongue. 

He breaks away from the kiss breathlessly. 

“Upstairs?” 

Damien looks at him, smile growing ever wider. 

“Upstairs.” 

Damien’s bed has more pillows and cushions than any bed has any business having, and most of them are pushed off the sides before they even start. Damien’s mouth is on Jonathan’s neck again, and each time Jonathan is unsure if he’s going to be kissed or bitten. He’s not sure if he minds which it is. Damien gives up on the bites by the time he gets below Jonathan’s collarbones and his fingertips gently trace the two scars on Jonathan’s chest before he cautiously flutters his tongue over one nipple. 

Jonathan can’t feel any of what Damien is doing, but fuck if he doesn’t appreciate the visual. He has one hand tangled in Damien’s hair, the other gripping his shoulder, when Damien asks to top. 

He nods and Damien smiles, his face flushing red as he pulls back from straddling Jonathan’s lap. 

“Let me get my harness on.” 

When Damien returns and kneels at the end of the bed, Jonathan becomes aware that the harness in question is made of white leather, and looks remarkable like a mankini. Damien’s dick hangs precariously through a metal O ring at the front, and the silicone is a near perfect match to the pale tone of Damien’s inner arms. 

_Wait, no, vegan leather._ Jonathan thinks. _White vegan leather. The harness is definitely vegan leather. Damien would not be seen dead wearing real leather._

“That harness cannot be comfortable. Or stable.” 

“It isn’t.” 

“Then why are you wearing it?” 

“It’s easy to clean.” 

Jonathan’s skepticism cuts through the silence enough that Damien squirms slightly and breaks eye contact, his face flushing more red than Jonathan thought was possible. 

“Also I need to justify the cost of commissioning a Victorian accurate strap-on harness by actually using it.” 

Jonathan raises an eyebrow. 

“The dick doesn’t look period accurate.” 

“Being period accurate would result in using materials either body unsafe, or not vegetarian.” Damien’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “I’m unsure which is worse.” 

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, and he’s pretty sure there’s no good thing to say in this situation. So instead of talking, he leans forward until he’s resting on his hands and knees, and makes eye contact with Damien as he teases the tip with his tongue. 

He knows Damien can’t feel anything when he sucks his dick like this, but it only means he wants to do it better. To make it look good, so Damien can get something out of this. 

He runs and twists his tongue around the very tip a few more times before he breaks eye contact. Damien has a hand on his shoulder and he can feel the curl of the fingers tighten as he takes the tip into his mouth. The other hand is on his head now, fingers gently curled in his hair, not pulling or tangled. Yet. 

He pulls back slightly, then moves his head back, lips just slightly further down the shaft. Then he does it again, slowly working his mouth down the shaft, tongue curling around the hard silicone with each movement. 

He makes it about half way down the shaft before runs out of patience. He wants to take it as far down as he can, until the tip is at the back of the throat and his nose is pressed up against the harness itself. He can smell Damien through it, strong and musky and warm, and he runs his tongue along the underside of the shaft as he pulls back halfway, even though he knows Damien won’t feel it. Damien’s hand is tight enough around his shoulder that it’s starting to hurt, and he’s pulling on Jonathan’s hair just hard enough for him to be unable to ignore it. Jonathan meets his eyes as best he can from that angle, and they’re wide open, staring at him like he’s a miracle. 

When he pulls away, Damien’s dick is dripping wet from his mouth, and Jonathan can feel his own cock twitch in response. He leans back, leaning his weight on his haunches, and is suddenly very struck by the fact that Damien’s polo is a particularly horrible shade of purple. He decides it has to go. 

The polo is unceremoniously deposited on the floor, and Damien reaches across to the bedside table, and fumbles for gloves, lube, and a condom. 

Jonathan is glad to know that Damien’s fetish for Victorian sexual paraphernalia does not extend to his glove and lube choices. The pillows under his stomach make the position more comfortable, but he still flinches at the coldness of the lube as Damien brushes two fingertips against his ass. 

They’re slick with lube, and Jonathan relaxes as best he can as the first digit slips in to the first knuckle. It's easier than he expected or remembered, but he barely has time to register that before Damien pulls his finger back slightly, then thrusts it back in, just a little further, and then does it again, and again, and again. 

Jonathan lets out a groan as he takes it to the second knuckle, and _fuck fuck fuck_ he wants _more._

Damien must be a mind reader because a second later he asks the question Jonathan desperately wants to hear. 

“A second?” Damien asks. 

“ _Please_.” 

He has to pull the first finger out slightly to fit the second in alongside it, but Jonathan takes the second far easier. Damien’s found his g-spot now, the tips of his fingers pressing up against it each time he thrusts them. It’s just enough that Jonathan squirms, but not enough that he can actually get off on it. It’s torture, and Jonathan hates that he loves it. 

“Three?” 

“Three.” 

Damien’s fingers are long and thin, and he can slip a third finger in alongside the other two relatively easily. Jonathan’s fingers are curled in the bedsheets, his knuckles near white as Damien slowly thrusts all three fingers in and out, the tips brushing against his g-spot. 

“Damien”, he says finally, between gritted teeth. “Damien. Please.” 

The fingers pull out of him more slowly than he wants, and he can hear the snap as Damien pulls the glove off, and then the sound of a condom packet being torn open. 

The tip of Damien’s cock is pressed up against his ass, and he whines, desperate for it to just be in him. 

“Yes?” Damien asks, and his voice trembles just enough to betray his nervousness. 

“Please.” 

Damien wraps a hand around one hip, propping himself up with one leg, and presses into him slow and steady. He’s teasingly, achingly slow, when he finally buries himself to the base inside Jonathan’s ass, it’s only a moment before he pulls out again, halfway this time. 

Jonathan lets out what is absolutely not a whimper. 

He pushes back in again, harder and faster, and Jonathan lets his face fall against the mattress, rubbing his cock between two fingers in time with Damien’s thrusts. Half of him is aware at how wet and dripping he is, and the other half doesn’t care about anything other than the way Damien’s cock feels as it brushes against his g-spot. 

He tries to say something, but all that comes out is a sound that he can’t identify as a moan or a groan, or some kind of combination of the two. Damien’s grip around his hip tightens, and Jonathan can feel where his painted nails are digging into the skin. His breaths are fast and shallow and loud, and each movement of his hips is harsher and faster, and Jonathan knows he can’t keep up forever, but fuck he wants to. His fingers move faster, his back arching as he presses his head into the mattress. It’s too much, far too much, but at this point he doesn't care any more. 

He comes a second time, and it’s so hard that he has no idea what sounds he’s making, what expression he has, what’s happening other than his body dropping against the mattress and pillows, gasping for breath. 

“Jonathan?” Damien’s voice cuts through the post-fuck haze. “Are you alright?” 

Jonathan smiles into the mattress, and he’s mildly aware of how soaked the sheets are in his sweat. 

“Yeah”, He manages. “Yeah. More than okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> confession: the thing about Victorians not having body unsafe or not vegetarian dildos isn't true. but the other alternative is stone, and from personal experience I can tell you stone dildos are neither comfortable nor easy to wield when wearing them in a harness


End file.
